


Look Through the Curtains

by jewboykahl



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anxiety, Canon Gay Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, More of neglect but i mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26764837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewboykahl/pseuds/jewboykahl
Summary: Tweek has been anxious for as long as he could remember; maybe it was genetic, due to his overconsumption of caffeine, or from his parents terrorizing him. No matter the cause, there was always one person he could count on to help him find his center.
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak
Comments: 7
Kudos: 124





	Look Through the Curtains

**Author's Note:**

> i pretty much got this entire fic idea from stan saying "What the hell do his parents do to him?" if that tells you how much subtext i create in my head over absolutely everything 
> 
> also thank you SO much to ambercreek95 who beta'd this work for me!! a terrific person and writer go read everything they have posted

Shaking like a leaf seemed to be a character trait of Tweek’s. He was constantly trembling due to being overcome with some gruesome nightmare. Fears circulated in his brain at an abnormal rate for a young boy, and they never stopped. The poor kid was absolutely inconsolable; nobody (that cared enough to try) could seem to help him get a grip.

That is, until he and Craig Tucker got into a fight.

Most would think that a horrific, physical showdown that ended with both fighters visiting the hospital would be the termination of a friendship, not the start of one. But it was the opposite for them. Once they had discovered that they had been pitted against one another, it turned into something to laugh about. Craig assured Tweek that he never ‘chose’ him, and Tweek never accused him of eating poop or using his guinea pig for anal pleasure. After that, they were inseparable.

Craig had always been aware of his new companion’s anxiety then, but he was uninformed to the extent. He merely assumed his jitters were the result of an overconsumption of caffeine, but after spending full days and nights with him and hearing his conspiracy theories, he realized that this kid was absolutely _paranoid_. He couldn’t comprehend how someone could be so terrified of absolutely everything. He barely trusted Craig himself not to put a bullet through his brain in the middle of his slumber. However, after one night at the Tweak residence, the picture became much clearer.

A week prior to the fateful night had been Tweek’s ninth birthday, and his grandmother had purchased him a video game to go along with the console he had been saving up to get for over a year. (He had asked his parents to help him out with the cost of a PS3 at first, but was scared into completing the task on his own when they accused him of trying to make the coffee shop go bankrupt and put the family on the cusp of welfare.) He was extremely excited to finally be the owner of _Modern Warfare 3_ and invited Craig to come try it out.

In the midst of a battle against digital zombies, Tweek’s father barged into the room completely unannounced with an angry expression. The doorknob slamming against the dry wall caused Tweek to jump in shock. Craig himself was a bit alarmed by the sudden notion.

“What the hell is wrong with you, son?!” Mr. Tweak wondered, his voice loud and carrying. He did not seem to care that his little son was beginning to shake profusely. “You left the back door unlocked! _Unlocked_ , Tweek! Do you have any idea how many kinds of criminals are prowling the streets in this world?!”

“Y-Yes! I’m sorry, dad! I thought I locked it!” Tweek promised. His bottom lip quivered and his sea green eyes were wide as saucers. Craig knitted his eyebrows, deciding then and there that he strongly disliked seeing him so frightened, especially because of his own father.

“You weren’t thinking, that’s the problem! What did I tell you just last night?” The man demanded angrily, hand on his jutted out hip.

“That, um…” Tweek was almost brought to tears as he wracked his brain for the information. “That there’s a s-serial rapist in the Denver area that hasn’t been caught yet, a-and he really likes blond boys!”

“That’s right, Tweek. Do you want to be raped?! Do you want a random man to come into this house and have sex with you while you scream out for help but nobody can hear you?!”

“Dude…” Craig scoffed, absolutely appalled. His reaction went undetected by Mr. Tweak, who continued to bellow at his horrified offspring.

Mr. Tweak gripped the silver doorknob again before saying, “Keep the door locked, Tweek! You’re competent enough to at least do that!” and slamming it shut once again.

Craig let out a loud huff of disgust and verbalized his amazement. “What the fuck is wrong with him?” he wondered aloud. He cast his gaze to Tweek for an answer and instead found him shivering like mad. His fingers were tugging mercilessly at his soft blonde hair and his breathing was audible. “Tweek, hey,” Craig’s voice fell to a soothing tone as he slid to his side of the mattress. He experimentally pressed his hand to Tweek’s elbow. The action was tentative, even though Craig was generally good in a crisis. “It’s okay, dude. Nobody’s going to rape you.”

“You don’t know that!” Tweek cried out as his body instinctively shifted toward Craig’s. Waterworks were spilling down his cheeks and he hugged his knees to his chest. “People are crazy, man! They could be anywhere! And I’m so stupid! I didn’t even lock the door to keep them out! How could I be so _stupid_?!”

“You aren’t stupid,” The noirette assured his vibrating companion. He moved his arm to drape around his shoulders in further attempts to reel in this anxiety attack before it escalated. “And nobody is going to hurt you, okay? I’m right here, and I know karate. Remember?”

Tweek’s glossy green eyes found Craig’s face. He reluctantly let out a small giggle in remembrance of their physical altercation that brought them together. “Yeah…” his weak voice confirmed with a sniffle.

Gently, and with a bit of his own nervousness, Craig lifted his hand and cupped Tweek’s cheek. He caught a falling tear with his thumb and swiped it away. He smiled softly at Tweek, “Plus, you’re a pretty good boxer. Punch low, punch hard, right?”

Tweek’s laugh was louder and his shoulders started to slump. “Right. I guess we could take ‘em.”

“That’s the spirit.” Craig chuckled before pulling his hand away from Tweek’s face. He realized that it must have looked pretty gay, but he also didn’t really care. He would have done just about anything to get that terrified look off Tweek’s face. That was a worse kind of torture than any kind of tormenting from a schoolmate about having “boneritis” for Tweek.

Aside from a steady tremor, the blonde’s unease significantly subsided as a result of Craig’s soothing. Instead of the tightness of being horrified invading Tweek’s chest, he felt a bubbly feeling build up within him. It made him want to smile, and it only intensified when he saw that Craig was still looking at him with concern in his eyes. _Concern_ —someone actually cared about whether or not he was okay.

Tweek surged forward and linked his arms around Craig’s back. He hugged him tightly and buried his face in the crook of his neck. He felt so safe there. Although Craig was only nine as well, it didn’t really matter whether or not he could actually defend Tweek. All he had to do was _care._

A bit caught off guard by the juncture, Craig’s eyebrows knit together when Tweek clung to his person tightly enough to steal his breath. He wouldn’t complain, though. Not only was he adamant about looking out for his friends, he had decided in the back of his mind that Tweek was pretty cute. He wasn’t quite old enough to fully comprehend the feelings that would later boil him from the inside out when Tweek decided to do this, and was too ignorant to even consider dating Tweek in the future as a possibility. For then, he hugged his friend back protectively and shut his eyes. One thing he did know for sure is that he never wanted to see Tweek scared again.

And as the years trekked on in the quiet, little mountain town of South Park, Craig held his vow to a high standard. He slept over as much as possible, he accompanied Tweek through the lunch-lines, he deflected gay jokes with his middle finger, and when they were old enough for cell phones, answered every call and text message. Whatever the blond boy needed to help counter his crippling anxiety, Craig provided. In return, he got Tweek’s unwavering admiration and constant affirmation that he was the _literal best human being on the planet_. Not that he needed any of that as an incentive—he would continue to be concerned if Tweek didn’t even _like_ him.

Of course, even this discouraged Tweek. He felt as though he was a constant burden to his best friend. He was nothing but a ball of angst and revolving problems with his parents. Who could possibly enjoy a friendship with someone so high-maintenance?

On a rarely warm day in their hometown, Tweek voiced these concerns as they shared a park bench. He was shivering at the uncertainty of Craig’s reply, but he carried on anyway. “Craig, can I ask you something?”

Craig was lounging back comfortably against the public wooden seat, eyes closed and basking in the sunlight that would disappear in a week or so. He was clad in only a thin jacket and very grateful for the weather and the opportunity to enjoy it with Tweek. He raised his eyebrows and hummed in acknowledgement of Tweek’s request.

Tweek bit his lip and peered at the surprisingly visible muddy grass. He carefully strung the question together like he had pre-planned so many times in his head, “Doesn’t me being so paranoid all the time annoy you? Like… do you ever get tired of me?”

Tweek was thirteen then, and Craig was just a month away from being the same age. Puberty had kicked in which meant that Craig was simultaneously a major source of anxiety and his sole source of comfort. Whenever they would touch, he felt this odd tingling sensation shoot through his veins. He supposed he had always had a crush on Craig, but this was much different and much more difficult to comprehend. If he only knew that Craig had identical feelings, perhaps he wouldn’t be so disconcerted about the whole deal.

Craig turned his head and opened at eye to look at the coffee-addict. A smirk pulled at his lips, “What makes you think that?”

Tweek’s stomach churned unpleasantly, unsure of what to make of that reply. He shrugged and darted his eyes away again. “I dunno, I just… I’m such a handful... all I do is freak out about every little thing, and I know I do it, but I can’t help it because I have no idea what’s wrong with me and I even tried to talk to Mr. Mackey about it because maybe I have some kind of problem because nobody else is like this and he just told me I need to chill and Cartman already calls me a freak and annoying, and… oh Jesus, I’m doing it again—“ Tweek interrupted himself with a long exhale.

“Calm down, Twitchy.” Craig let out a good-hearted laugh and pushed himself into an up-right position. “First of all, fuck Cartman. Second of all, I can honestly say that after I thought you were going around telling people I shove Stripe up my ass, you have never annoyed me.”

Tweek let out a soft chuckle. “I wouldn’t tell people your secret kinks, dude.”

“I appreciate it.” Craig scoffed through his nose.

Feeling a bit more relaxed, Tweek let himself laugh and lean into Craig. Their shoulders brushed and his heart fluttered. “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

Craig waited for their eyes to make contact before he spoke in a serious tone, “I wouldn’t do that. And honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you at this point. You’re the opposite of a burden to me.”

This was the answer that really made butterflies erupt in Tweek’s stomach. Getting lost in Craig’s eyes and watching the green constantly try to dominate the brown was enough to make him question his sexuality, but hearing those words validated everything for him in that moment. While he was sure he’d start worrying about being a nuisance again as soon as they parted ways, for right then, things were okay. The waters were temporarily stilled.

Tweek’s large smile displayed itself shamelessly across his lips. “I know what I’d do without you.” He told Craig, laying his head against his shoulder and gazing up into the puffy clouds.

Craig’s hands awkwardly met in his lap, unsure of how to respond to Tweek’s term of affection without seeming _too_ gay. He let his eyelids fall shut again and laid his head against Tweek’s. They seemed to fit perfectly, which made Craig grin to himself. “What’s that?”

“Die.” Tweek retorted grimly.

Craig barked a laugh as Tweek chuckled into his neck. “Good thing you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

“Really good.” Tweek agreed with a warm smile.

While his relationship with Craig was evolving into something new and amazing, his home-life only worsened. Often his parents would drill new horror stories into his head that sent him into downward panicking spirals. Some weekends, they would lock him in his room due to the claim that something was out to get him. If they weren’t torturing him, they ignored him by constantly going out at night and leaving him to care for their family business on his own or simply neglecting his existence.

A particularly bad night for Tweek was the result of a culmination of things. Tweek was a mere fifteen years of age then, and just a week prior, he had approached his parents about putting him on medication for his anxiety. He had talked with the school counsellor and his best friend, Craig, and they concluded that the boy had a legitimate problem. But, his parents did not agree—and instead they freaked him out with how it’s all too easy for someone like Tweek to get addicted to the pills and end up an even bigger loser. The rest of the week, his parents spent all day at the coffee shop and all night God knows where.

Thunder and lightning shook Tweek with the house as South Park was relentlessly hit with a rare storm. He huddled in his closet, chest heaving and cheeks dripping with tears. As childish as it may have been, he was terrified of this kind of merciless precipitation and the fact that he was completely alone only amplified everything.

He was a bit too preoccupied to answer the phone that was buzzing with Craig’s contact picture (which showed him pointing a Nerf gun at the camera, mockingly serious expression) beside him, trembling profusely with his knees tucked into his chest. His brain was overwhelmed with the atrocious possibilities that the night presents—the storm could blow a tree over the house and crush him while simultaneously a psychopath invades his home and slowly tortures him until he meets his demise.

Those thoughts were given ammunition by the sudden knock on the front door. Tweek’s heart punched him from within his chest and his eyes bulged even farther out of his head. Was that his murderer? Perhaps they had been stalking him for a while now and chose to wait for the storm to come, considering his weaknesses… He curled into a ball and pushed himself back into his closet.

Then, the worst thing imaginable occurred—they opened the door. How would they have access to his home? _How did this happen? What did he do to deserve this?_

“Tweek?!” A voice asked in a troubled tone. It was familiar—maybe it had been someone he knew all along that was plotting his death this whole time. His parents were correct; he couldn’t trust _anyone_. “Tweekers? Are you upstairs?”

 _Tweekers._ Only one person called him that. The shaking blond leapt from his hiding spot and darted towards the voice. After using his trembling fingers to unlock his bedroom door, he continued to rush towards the only one who he could consistently count on. He was met on the staircase by a soaking wet and extremely vexed Craig. His black fringe was caked against his forehead underneath his poor choice of a knit beanie, raindrops rolling down his tan cheeks. He put his hands on Tweek’s shoulders and scrutinized his sobbing state, “Tweek, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I-I can’t,” Tweek wheezed and collapsed against his rain-wetted friend. He wrapped him in a comforting embrace and traced his moist fingers through Tweek’s tousled curls. His body reacted to Tweek being pressed against it by making his heart race and temptation to keep him there forever rising. “I’m so scared.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Craig assured and pressed his nose to his ear. “It’s okay.”

Tweek’s heartrate seemed to slow after being invaded by Craig’s presence. He was so calming, especially after years of being routinely held in his arms as he rode out his frequent anxiety attacks. Tweek pulled back just enough to cast his teary gaze up at his handsome face, “You’re freezing and wet!” he cried.

Craig chuckled softly, “I’m okay, Tweekers! I’m worried about _you.”_

“Well, I’m worried about you catching pneumonia! Why would you walk here in the rain?! You’re gonna get sick!” Tweek shrieked, already dragging Craig by his forearm to his bedroom. Craig would normally protest at being catered to, but instead he smiled to himself at Tweek’s distraction from his astraphobia.

Craig shrugged, “You weren’t answering my calls and I know how much you hate storms.”

A smile broke Tweek’s petrified expression. He pulled Craig into his bedroom, heart full of gratefulness to have someone as unwaveringly loyal and caring as Craig. He turned to peer at him, those crazy and inexplicable feelings shooting sparks down his spine when he met Craig’s hazel gaze. “But it’s pouring.”

“You really think I care about some weak ass storm? You underestimate me.” Craig retorted with a slight smirk.

The blond rolled his eyes, bustling to his wardrobe in pursuit of a fresh pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. “I mean, I obviously care…”

Craig frowned as he tugged his hat off. He grimaced at the soaked wool and set it on the bed. He turned to take the new clothes Tweek offered him and laughed, “You do realize you’re about half my size, right?”

“I am not! You’re only six-foot.” Tweek protested.

“Add three inches, Kemosabe. It must be hard to tell from down there, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.” Craig spoke as he tugged off his saturated hoodie. He shivered at the exposure of his bare chest to the cool air and kicked his pants off to join the pile.

Tweek couldn’t help but stare—Craig’s body was gangly and that of a generic fifteen year-old boy, but it was perfect to him. He had grown to appreciate the maturing curves and muscles and the softness off his deep, tan skin. His stomach clenched with embarrassment and lust. His voice betrayed him when he argued, “I’m, uh… I’m five-ten. Not that short.”

“Right. Seriously, though, do you have any of my pants here, chicken legs?” Craig pressed, clueless to Tweek’s admiring stare eating him alive. He thought nothing of himself—and everything of Tweek. He had barely even considered that his perfect best friend would have any romantic interest in him.

Tweek shook his head, disappointed that Craig was pulling the Nirvana shirt over his torso. He grinned to remember that the shirt was oversized on himself, but fit quite well on Craig. The cheesy grin made Craig cock an eyebrow, “What?”

He allowed his gaze to linger another moment before casting his eyes away, blushing, “Nothing, really—“a deafening strike of thunder interrupted Tweek and caused him to jump in fear. He clutched his chest and stared at the window. “Fucking hell.”

“Where are your parents?” Craig wondered, pressing his palm to Tweek’s elbow comfortingly.

Tweek instinctively backed into the touch and puffed out a sigh. “They… I have no idea, Craig. They’re just definitely not here.”

Craig sighed indignantly and curled his arms around Tweek from behind. His mouth rested on his shoulder and his eyes fell shut. His protective hold made Tweek relax again and melt into the touch. He began to forget that it was even raining as Craig rubbed circles with his thumb against his pudgy tummy. He let his shoulders fall and hands hover over Craig’s.

“Tweek?” Craig’s gentle whisper sent chills throughout the other boy.

“Y-Yeah?” He wondered softly, biting his lip and attempting to catch a glimpse of Craig’s face.

Craig aided him in this mission. He peaked his head up towards Tweek and felt his heart flutter in his chest when their noses brushed. He grinned. “This is pretty fucking gay.”

Tweek couldn’t help but laugh nervously, but he also couldn’t pull away from Craig. That was the closest he had ever been to his lips and he wasn’t ready to be separated from them again. “I know” he replied simply, exaggerating the movements of his lips so that they would ghost against Craig’s—making his heart throb in a _good_ way.

Craig smirked and wondered if this was finally the moment that he would do something about his feelings. “And you’re okay with it?” he added to the dialogue with a similar idea to Tweek. Their mouths barely grazed one another’s, causing them both to feel drunk on the simple contact.

Tweek spun around for more access as he chuckled giddily. He stood on his toes to throw his arms around Craig’s shoulders and pull him close again. A crack of thunder made his smile falter, but Craig swiftly reeled him back into the moment with one arm around his hips and a hand pressed to his cheek. “Shh... don’t even think about it.”

Tweek peered directly into warm hazel eyes. Craig’s face was illuminated only by the minimal light spilling in from the outdoors and a small lamp in the corner of his room. His features were so unique and beautiful and calming. “Kiss me” his mouth asked without his brain’s consent. Of course, he wanted to say it—and had been wanting to for years—but it was a nerve-wracking request.

The phrase made Craig’s head spin. His eyebrows rose and lips quivered in want. “You sure?”

Tweek answered by drawing in closer and poking his pointy nose against Craig’s. Craig took that as its rightful encouragement and sucked in a deep breath. Suddenly _he_ was the nervous one; unsure of how to even kiss anyone, let alone the very person he’d been dying to kiss for ages. But he figured if the universe got him this far with his favorite person, he couldn’t fuck it up too royally. He let his eyelids slide shut and leaned in just a bit more. Their lips met and immediate sparks ignited.

Craig let out a soft gasp, overwhelmed from a mere two seconds of kissing Tweek Tweak. He never thought he’d even get to do this, yet there they were; lips locked with a thunderstorm as a soundtrack. Tweek forgot that there was a storm. He forgot everything that was not the feeling of Craig Tucker’s soft, sweet lips. What anxiety?

Craig pulled back to catch his breath and to read Tweek’s reaction. He wanted to know for certain that he was comfortable, and not nervous about things escalating or moving in a different direction too quickly for him. Craig considered the fact that Tweek asked him to kiss him, but he was never quite sure what could set the poor, ball of pure angst off. The sound of a toaster going off almost gave him a heart attack once.

But one look into Tweek’s dilated emerald eyes told him he had nothing to be apologetic for. The boy was wearing a radiant smile and blush across his cheeks. He barely shook. “Wow…”

Craig was still rendered speechless, completely lost in the moment and Tweek’s huge eyes. To spare Tweek the worry, he forced himself to come up with a primal reply, “Uh-huh.”

A lightning strike made Tweek jump and instantly veer into his best friend. The other boy grinned happily at the opportunity to finally hold and kiss Tweek the way he’d been dreaming about. He took advantage and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, “S’okay.”

Tweek sighed happily as he melted into Craig’s embrace all over again. “Thank you, Craig.”

“For?” he wondered, cocking his head back to shoot Tweek a confused expression.

“For everything… all you’ve ever done is be here for me when I need someone in every way possible. You make me feel safe when not even my parents do. It just… it really means a lot to me. You really mean a lot to me.” Tweek confessed. He could now feel the rosiness rising against his face.

Craig drank in every word and savored them as if it were the last thing Tweek was ever going to say. He knew Tweek appreciated him, but hearing this validation did something to his stomach. “Well, you mean everything to me, so, it’s cool.”

Tweek had to chuckle at the overtly _Craig_ reply he supplied. “Can I tell you something?”

His friend only nodded in response. Tweek leaned up on his tippy-toes to whisper it in his ear—mostly because he was far too nervous to look him in the eyes and say this for the first time. It wasn’t just a casual phrase like it used to be. It was the real deal, _holy fuck this is serious_ bomb. Quickly, he blurted quietly, “I love you,” before drawing away chewing his bottom lip.

Craig beamed at the other boy and dragged him right back. He did what the older boy could not do before; looking him straight in the deep, green eyes and promising, “I love you, too.”

A sigh of relief left Tweek’s lips just before they were smashed against Craig’s again. Passion brimmed within them, leaving tight chests and queasy stomachs. Overwhelmed with joy, Craig grinned into the kiss and tilted his partner off his legs, dipping him backwards like a cheesy princess film. Tweek shrieked with laughter and held onto his prince charming tightly. “D-Don’t drop me!”

“I’d never let you fall… unless it was in love with me.” Craig smirked.

Tweek granted him an eye roll and a giddy smile. “You’re such a dork.”

Craig hummed in agreement and attached their lips yet again. Neither complained about the extensive amount of kisses that accumulated into the hundreds during the night. Eventually the storm subsided and they were able to drift off to sleep.

However, Tweek’s parents still did not make it home.

The MIA status of Mr. and Mrs. Tweak became more frequent after that experience. They would be home for a week, gone for two days, back for two days, gone for three days, and so on. It was stressful for Tweek to keep up with, especially considering he was never informed and forced to fend for himself on the days of their absence.

Of course, he had his lovely boyfriend to keep him company and occasionally feed him something other than Ramen Noodles and instant rice; but as much as he loved Craig, there was an unfilled void where his parents belonged. To feel as if—and know that—his own mother and father truly didn’t care about his well-being as much as whatever the hell they disappeared to do hurt him deeply. They were supposed to be the two people in this world he could count on no matter what. They were supposed to love him unconditionally and take care of him and _love_ him.

Even when he announced that he was in a relationship with Craig, all they told him was to not get jizz on their carpet and all they did was hand him a hundred dollars to seem supportive of the homosexual agenda. But, that was not what he wanted or needed.

Craig knew this and it hurt him deeply. He did his best to supply a second home and family to Tweek with his own, which was easy due to the fact that his parents and sister adored Tweek (a bit too much if you asked Craig. Possibly _more_ than Craig himself), but he knew it was a lost cause. All his beautiful little boyfriend wanted was his mom and dad’s attention and love and approval and he was so devastated that he couldn’t give that to him.

But, he sure as hell could _say_ something about it.

A few months after Tweek and Craig made their relationship official, the blond boy received a school award for a piece of artwork he had constructed for his AP art course. It was a beautiful oil painting using a fall themed set-up he created (and Craig photographed for him as reference). His teacher was moved by his “best piece yet” and offered him an honored spot in the annual Art Fair in the small mountain town as well as a shining grade. Tweek had been so proud of this accomplishment he was practically screaming when he told Craig. However, when he informed his parents, the enthusiasm was not shared.

“Nice,” was all Mr. Tweak could come up with after Tweek excitedly explained his self-victory with Craig flanking his side. Mrs. Tweak nodded her head, not even peering up from her magazine.

Tweek bit a lip, immediately deflating at the lack of reaction. “D-Do you guys want to come see it? It’s next Friday…”

“We’ll try, son. Did you wash all the coffee pots at the shop? It’s swine flu season, and you can die from that.” Mr. Tweak retorted in an annoyed fashion, shifting the subject to ignore his son’s request.

“Yes, sir.” Tweek sighed in defeat. He turned on his heels and met eyes with Craig to signal for them to head up to his bedroom. Those amazing forest greens that previously held so much infliction and exhilaration were now full of sorrow. It was _disgusting_.

“Did you not fucking hear him?” Craig’s monotone voice was raised to a volume that he rarely used. His eyebrows were furrowed and his blood boiled.

“Excuse me?” Mr. Tweak challenged, shooting his son’s boyfriend an angry glare.

Craig ignored his pleas from the nervous boy behind him to stop. “Your kid did a really cool thing at school that he’s really proud of and you should at least pretend that you give a shit about it. Not only is he your fucking _only_ kid, but he’s amazing.”

“Well, pardon me, but I don’t really think I need a little boy telling me how to raise my son!” Mr. Tweak shot back. His son tentatively tugged on the sleeve of the challenger’s sweatshirt, urging him with very fiber of his panicked being to drop the subject before something terrible occurred.

“I don’t really think you should have a kid if you’re not going to take care of him. Or pay attention to him. Or if you’re going to make his anxiety so much worse by freaking him out for no reason.” Craig spat threw gritted teeth and raised a hand when Mr. Tweak attempted to intervene again. “Your son is my boyfriend, Mr. Tweak, and I don’t care if you hate me, I’m going to stand up for him. You’re a fucking prick and you need to step up and raise Tweek like he’s the _person_ he is, and not some commodity for your coffee shop.”

“Craig, please—“

Tweek’s pleading was again interrupted, this time by his father striding the rest of the way to where Craig stood (which was comical because Craig was already much taller than the full-grown adult) and glared daggers into his face. “Get out of my house and don’t even think about coming back! You will not tell me how to run my business or my son’s life!”

Craig scoffed, unfazed by the closeness of the man, “I don’t give two glittery shits about the business, I’m talking about Tweek! It’s called child neglect!”

“Get _out_!” Mr. Tweak fumed and landed his familiar green eyes on his shivering son. “You, too! Both of you, out of my house!”

Tweek could cry, and he felt as though he would pass out. His shoulders arched and he clung to Craig’s comforting arm despite his upset at his defender. He tugged his sweater again as he stumbled towards the door—but Craig had to get the last word.

Craig shrugged. “This isn’t a punishment. We actually love Tweek at my house.”

With that, and a panicking boyfriend, Craig left the Tweak residence not to return for a long time. Tweek was in hysterics, but managed to pull himself together to mere sobs by the time they reached the Tucker residence down the block. Mrs. Tucker was swift to console her practically-adopted son and make him a huge mug of hot chocolate along with the agreement of allowing him to stay there until the whole mess was sorted out.

And, it thankfully was, within just a few days. The Tuckers had a long chat with the Tweaks, and the problems with their parenting were addressed in a more mature fashion. The Tweaks acted enlightened and determined to become better parents, but old habits never quite seem to die. After they attended the Arts Fair to examine Tweek’s prized piece, it was as if all the pieces of their shattered relationship broke apart all over again. The ignoring, the taunting, and the leaving all rebooted and made Tweek feel helpless again.

“I just… I don’t know what to do.” Tweek sighed heavily, even his head feeling too large of a burden to bear. He leaned it against Craig’s shoulder and stared at nothing fixedly.

Craig matched his deep exhale and fed his long fingers through his disheveled hair. “I don’t have the answer to this one, Tweekers. But I can tell you it’ll be okay.”

He had told Tweek this a thousand times and he brushed it off as anyone else would, but he tried to put some thought behind it. His green gaze screwed up to Craig’s face and drank in the features that stared right back at him. He remembered that through the years, it was always those soft hazel eyes and that cute half-smile that was by his side to alleviate any stresses and anxieties that cause him to go out of his mind that _hour_. Perhaps that was a parent’s job in most cases, but maybe that just wasn’t true in his case. Maybe it was Craig all along that was his level two in the Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs. Craig was his security and safety—and his love.

Smiling at the revelation, Tweek laughed lightly to himself. Craig cocked an eyebrow, “What?”

Tweek only giggled again and leaned into his boyfriend. He pushed his lips against Craig’s and kissed him with fever. Craig was surprised, but not unpleasantly so. He returned the gesture and let himself melt into the sweet taste of the blond’s lips gliding synchronously across his.

“It’s okay,” Tweek whispered when the swift make-out session had come to an end. “I’m gonna be a Tucker someday anyways. And it’ll just be me and you, and I get to have a slightly less ridiculous name.”

Craig grinned widely, searching Tweek’s gleaming eyes before attacking his mouth with another full kiss, drawing a happy sigh from his throat. Perhaps they were all each other needed after all; and if not, they were sure as hell good enough for now, with or without Mr. Tweak’s approval.


End file.
